Breathing (I Can't Get Used To It)
by Tamyou
Summary: It's been a rough night. Actually, it's been a rough few months, and sometimes it gets too much for Stiles to keep up pretense. He is not okay, and he'll probably never be. But there is always someone there to make it better. Sterek oneshot. Post Nogitsune. Established romantic relationship. Mentions of Claudia Stilinski.


**A/N:** I'm on fire. Two oneshots in one week. I have to admit, I rarely react emotionally to the stuff I write, but this... fuck, I think I cries once or twice while writing it. I hope you will, too. Hehehe.

**Summary:** It's been a rough night. Actually, it's been a rough few months, and sometimes it gets too much for Stiles to keep up pretense. He is not okay, and he'll probably never be. But there is always someone there to make it better.

I own nothing.

* * *

It was the familiar, comforting sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen that finally woke him up. The smell drifted to the living room where he was curled inside himself on the couch, the thin blanket drawn close to his body. He blinked his eyes open and stretched an arm in front of his face, trying to find the will to get up.

It's been a long night, that he could remember clearly. Nightmares in which he could not find his way home haunted him, making him feel painfully, agonizingly alone even though Derek's arms were wrapped around him the whole time, holding him through the night. He couldn't find peace, and the memories and pain he carried with him ever since they got the Nogitsune out of him still haunted his dreams. It took everything in him to just keep going, keep fighting to find a reason to get up each and every morning. But this constant fight... he was just tired. So, so tired.

But Derek made it better, Stiles thought to himself with a long, heavy sigh. He made it somewhat bearable, and it was easier to breathe when he was there. With Derek around, he was fine.

Finally throwing his legs off the couch, he forced himself to get up and shuffle to the kitchen tiredly. There, next to the stove, Derek stood and watched over the breakfast he made, quietly humming to the sound of the Beatles coming from the radio that rested on the kitchen windowsill. It was so peaceful.

Stiles froze.

He couldn't breathe.

* * *

_"Good morning, sweetie,"_

_She turned around when she heard him coming into the kitchen, her voice was warm and welcoming, her smile erasing every worry he could ever have had.__A Beatles song was on the radio, and she softly sang along while flipping the bacon in the pan._

_Stiles smiled widely and slid into one of the chairs next to the table, watching her with curious, expectant wide eyes._

_"Are you hungry?"_

* * *

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't-

A soft sound of sniffle made Derek turn around, eyebrows slightly frowning in confusion. He blinked when he saw the boy standing in the doorway, his bare chest trembling as he tried to breathe and wide whisky eyes staring straight at him without seeing. With a skip of his heart, Derek noticed the tears that were welling up in Stiles' beautiful eyes, and within second the stove had been turned off and he was crossing the room, and his hands were suddenly cupping Stiles' face, thumb gently wiping at the wayward tears.

"Hey, hey," he whispered softly, tilting the boy's face so he could look him in the eye, eyebrows coming together in concern. "What's wrong?"

Stiles shook his head, blinking himself into the real world again and reaching his hands up to wipe at his face in frustration, sniffling and fighting the sob that bubbled in his chest, trapped.

"Stiles,"

Stiles looked everywhere but at him, eyes nervous and pained running their gaze all over the room like a wounded animal, avoiding Derek's piercing greenish eyes.

"Stiles."

His tone was firm now, but his voice still inviting, with a hint of gentleness only he could voice like that. Stiles forced himself to look at him, his eyes swimming with more unshed tears. His chin trembled.

"It's nothing. I swear, it's... n-nothi-" And then the wall crumbled and fell, and Stiles' voice broke and pitched into a heart breaking sob that tore at both of them, and suddenly Derek's arms were around him, wrapping his shaking body so close that he didn't even know where his body started and Stiles' ended.

"It's okay, it's okay... cry it out," He mumbled quietly in the boy's ear, who had his head tucked safely under Derek's chin, his face screwed up in grief. The wolf closed his eyes, breathing Stiles' scent in slowly and sadly hoping his presence was enough comfort for the suffering boy. Muffled sounds of wet sniffling and gasping breaths came from Derek's chest, where Stiles' head was buried, his fists gripping tightly at the back of Derek's now soaked shirt.

"I-I can't anymore, Derek..." He whimpered, voice trembling as he fought to steady it, and failed. Everything was already too much, he didn't believe he could take any more. The nightmares that left no room for rest, the constant fear he carried with him ever since the Nogitsune first possessed him, the paranoia... his panic attacks were back with full force, and he felt like he was losing himself again.

"I'm tired," He whispered, voice hoarse and weak from crying. "And I just can't- I can't-"

Another sob forced itself out of his throat, wrecking his body. Derek's arms tightened around the exhausted boy, it was the only thing he could do. Just hold him, and let him cry.

"Mom c-could make it better," Stiles cried, his voice muffled and broken and pained. "It was f-fine, it was fine...! But then you were just standing there, and with that s-song she... and I couldn't- I just... I m-miss her... I want my m-mom back, D-Derek...!"

His choked words stopped being coherent after that, and so he just buried his face deeper into the wolf's chest, letting out a sorrowful scream that was swallowed in the fabric. His shoulders were shaking violently and his fists were hitting Derek's back, nails digging into the skin, but the man only held him closer through it, greenish eyes shut tight as he tried to force the lump that choked his throat to stay put. His heart was breaking.

"I j-just want... my m-mom b-back..."

"Shh," Derek mumbled, his eyelashes wet from the moist that was welling up in his own eyes. His hand was rubbing circles on Stiles' back, breathing slowly as the crying seemed to calm down, minute by minute.

Baby steps.

Derek didn't know how long it was since the moment Stiles showed up at the kitchen door, nor did he care. He let him cry for what seemed like hours, but eventually, the boy's sobbing calmed down. There was a lot of sniffling now and slow, shuddered breaths, but the crying stopped. Derek slipped one arm off of Stiles' back, shifting to gently pry his face off his wet shirt and cup it, lifting his chin to look into his eyes.

Stiles' face was flushed and wet from tears and running nose, whisky eyes red and puffed and soft, still glistening from crying. His lips were dry. Chapped. Derek leaned forwards, his face only inches away from Stiles'. He ran his thumb across the other's cheek, wiping away what was left of his tears.

"You look like someone punched you." Derek mumbled unconsciously, his brow creasing in a frowning concern as he stared at Stiles' soft cheeks.

And then, the corners of Stiles' mouth twitched. It was almost impossible to notice, but Derek saw it, and his heart swelled as he watched the twitches turn into a soft smile, and he couldn't hide his own when a quiet, hoarse chuckle shook the boy's shoulders. Stiles reached up and rubbed at his face with the back of his hands, sniffling once again.

Derek made it better. Derek always made it better.

He could breathe.

"My God, Derek. I love you," He laughed quietly and looked up at the wolf, the corners of his eyes somewhat wrinkled with the huge grin that graced his lips. He sniffled again and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and kissed him softly, lingering for just a moment in front of his lips. The look of wonder that slowly appeared in Derek's eyes was the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen, when he whispered again,

"I love you."

* * *

**A/N:** Well? Tell me what you think, lovelies. Reviews are food for my soul.

Ta-ta!


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